Elysha and I are probably staying home on New Year's Eve this year. Our kids will go to bed, and we'll watch a movie or play a game. We occasionally have friends over to ring in the new year, but I think we'll be on our own this time.

I've had some memorable New Year's Eves.

In 1988, I rang in the new year with my bandmates and Laura, my high school sweetheart, in Pasadena California at 9:00 PM PST (12:00 EST) so that we could climb out of bed at 4:00 AM to march in the Rose Bowl Parade.

We spent that night in a theater, watching West Side Story, before taking the stage and dancing until "midnight."

From 1989-1992, my roommate Bengi and I would host enormous parties on New Year's Eve. Loud music. Kegs of beer. Drinking games. Lots of flirting.

The police broke up one of our parties when the neighbors had finally had enough.

Those were good days.

Since those days, New Year's Eve has typically been spent at parties, at home, and occasionally celebrating my father-in-law's birthday.

He was born on December 31.

But perhaps one of my most memorable New Year's Eves was in 1993, when I spent it working the closing shift at a McDonald's in Brockton, MA. Not exactly the best way to ring in the new year, but I oddly remember that night better than most. We had a great time. Laughed a lot. Played music in the kitchen. Arm wrestled (I was competing in an underground arm wrestling league back then). Ordered pizza and wings. Drank a little champagne. Gave away free food to our regular customers.

I remember it like it was yesterday,.

It turns out that one of the best ways to make a moment memorable is to make it different than any moment before or after. I never again worked on New Year's Eve, and thus that night in 1993 is burned into my memory.

I'm glad. It didn't seem so great at the time, but in retrospect, it was a great, great night.